Chapter 320: Candle Light

Words : 1197 Updated : Oct 5th, 2025

Chapter 320: Candle Light *** {In A Bright World} While the hall turned its attention to Sinbad. Its hate, its curiosty, and its anger. Zafar remained still. "He’ll need to get stronger. Much, much, much stronger if he’s going to kill me in the end. I can’t let—" Those words couldn’t leave his mind. They repeated over and over and over again. Hah... Malik really had high expectations, huh? Just how much did Zafar let him down? How deeply did he disappoint him? Much, much, much stronger... No. He wasn’t enough. He was unfathomably far from enough. Even if he had the entire world behind him, Malik would’ve never been felled by his hands. If not for Malik, if not for his want, they truly would have been nothing... even more than now. For God’s sake, he could flick them dead. They didn’t earn any of this. Not a single thing. Zafar... he... he felt shame. Not only due to how weak he was, how easily controlled, how non-consequential, and just how his every breath belonged to a man so wanton of death, but also due to how he let down his... professor. Malik must’ve had plans involving him, but all had gone down the drain. He was of use to no one... absolutely no one in this world. But still, despite it all, the Sultan didn’t abandon him. ...His Lord looked out for him until the end. Until the very damned end, where he stood before his gates... screamed for his head, and called him devil. An end he never deserved. *** {Inside The Projection} Hoooot. "..." "..." "..." Malik wasn’t hearing wrong. The owl had, in fact, hooted in reply. It was late, maybe by a few hours, but it had come. "Ah..." It wasn’t a reactionary one, but a conversational one. "You’re still there." Malik’s hand shifted, brushing the feathers again. "Good." The owl didn’t confirm, but he didn’t need to. Malik had heard more than enough. "I love you too, brother." Black tilted his head. Malik tilted his back. They stared at each other for a while. "Hm. Don’t worry, I won’t be dying anytime soon... I’m not rushing; I know these things take time." The wind slipped by. The grass swayed with it, brushing softly against Malik’s legs. "I’ll need time to build a cage for these little wolves..." He scratched under the owl’s chin. "So intricate that they think it’s a throne room." The bird closed his eyes as he went still. "So big they’ll think it’s freedom." Malik stared at him a little longer. His face didn’t change. Not much ever did, not anymore. But his eyes flicked faintly, and the corner of his jaw tightened slightly. "...That’s what you’re worried about, then?" The question didn’t feel like it needed answering. He already knew. Black shuffled his wings, and Malik looked away again, toward the distant towers of the Academy. "Still... don’t worry." His fingers scratched the owl’s back, resting on one of his wings. "I’ll bring you back." The words came soft but final. "I’ll bring you back." Malik’s voice dropped even lower, almost too low to hear. "Even if it’ll end up with the world hating me... even if I have to ruin my name for it. Have them chant for my head to be on a spike." That was it. He didn’t explain. He didn’t need to. Because there wasn’t anything else to say. Malik wasn’t one of them anymore. He didn’t need praise. He didn’t need legacy. He didn’t need forgiveness. The thing he needed at that moment was his owl back. Because tonight, nothing other than that mattered. Not the cages or the wolves. Only the name he’d chosen to burn, just so he could keep one promise to a boy who never asked for anything. *** {Outside The Projection} The world stared. Every face turned toward the projections above, and they all reflected something bittersweet. Every word, every breath Malik had spoken—they felt it. A knife, they didn’t even know they’d swallowed, twisting in the gut. And now, finally, they got it. Or rather, they could no longer deny it. Malik had won a great victory. At least in his eyes. It wasn’t with power or some massive world-ending clash. No. They saw it now, a few hundred years later, before their very eyes. Malik sat in the grass. Whispered to an owl. And made one promise. In doing so, he shattered everything they believed they had built. Absolutely everything. And most of it stemmed from one of two things. "I’ll bring you back." That was it. Love. A soft, buried, painful kind of love. The kind he bled for... Again, this confirmed to the entire world what was once their belief. Malik never wanted to be saved. He never wanted a normal life... a long life. He only wanted that one thing. To fulfill his vows. To keep a brother alive in a world that had forgotten him. To avenge that brother who had no one else to bury him. To be a pillar of faith and wear its mantle until his final day. And the price? Everything. ...All by design. All by Goddamned design. His words had come true as if in a prophecy. Sinbad had returned. The world had burned his name. And their leaders—the ones they once believed strong—were still trapped in the cages Malik had built for them so long ago. Cages that looked like thrones. Cages they were proud to sit in. Noor didn’t speak. Roya didn’t lift her eyes. They just stood there. Frozen. If either of them had a shred of shame left in them, it would’ve painted their faces by now. But no... they didn’t. So they just looked down. Silent. Still. Broken, even if they wouldn’t admit it. Because this quiet scene? This little moment? It killed them. Again and forever more, all that anger, all that rebellion, all that talk of changing the world, ruling the world, taking over... Obsolete. All was rendered meaningless by one promise from a man they never understood. Everything had gone Malik’s way. Every little piece on the board was his. And this was the final slap in the face, the biggest one of all. They weren’t rebels. They weren’t visionaries. They weren’t leaders. They were props. Just names in a story they thought was about them. But it never was. It was always his. *** {Inside The Projection} The door creaked open behind him. Malik stepped into his chambers and shut the door. He moved slow, taking out a candle from one of the shelves and placing it on his desk. With one flick of his fingers, he lit the candle. There was no spark or flame, just a soft fsssshhh as it caught fire. Malik then sat down on his throne-like chair and leaned back. He rested his chin on his right hand. That was when he saw it. The shadow. On the floor. Curled up by the far corner, near the bookcase. It trembled. Then it stopped. Malik didn’t blink. Didn’t raise an eyebrow. He only stared. And then... "...Hm." Went back to work. That was it. The candle kept burning.

Chapter 320: Candle Light

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